


Say My Name

by victorianbee



Category: Mass Effect - All Media Types, Mass Effect Trilogy
Genre: Developing Relationship, F/M, First Time, Interspecies Awkwardness, No Shepard without Vakarian, Rating will change, garrus is a giant dork, slight femshep/omc, slight garrus/ofc, when im confident enough
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-08-28
Updated: 2020-09-25
Packaged: 2020-09-28 07:34:15
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 6
Words: 8,160
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20422271
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/victorianbee/pseuds/victorianbee
Summary: When they had jokingly stumbled their way into Shepard suggesting sex, Garrus had been rendered incoherent. He’d agreed too readily to be anything less than eager and was embarrassed he was nearly reduced to a fledgling recruit in front of his commander. It had barely even crossed his mind that maybe it would make the coming weeks awkward or tense.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> First fic in years. I started replaying ME2 and it got me in a Mood.

"So... what was her name?"

Garrus looked over at Shepard, who was examining a console screen entirely too intently. He glanced at the display, an impressive range of tropical fish available to purchase. 

"Whose name?" Garrus asked, feigning innocence as he looked around. They were in the Zakera Wards on the Citadel and its red pulsing lights always gave him a slight headache. It was only a few days ago now that they'd had that conversation in the main battery... about relieving stress, sparring, and, decidedly, not sparring.

"The other Turian recruit," Shepard replied, eyes still locked on the vendor's console. He could see, even as she was turned away from him her cheeks were beginning to darken with blood. Blushing, he corrected himself. Humans blushed for lots of different reasons. He fleetingly wondered which one it was now. She added two of the brightly colored animals to her order, and Garrus sighed.

"Shepard, I'm all for having hobbies outside of saving the galaxy, but there's a very attractive sniper scope over there that might be more worth the credits than..." he squinted back at the display, reading the description of one of the aquatic animals. "...Thessian sunfish."

Shepard completed her transaction and turned to him. "Garrus, these are Cerberus credits. The least I could do is run up their tab at every shop in Citadel space, especially if they're non-human owned. Gotta get my kicks somehow before we all die, right?" She winked, obviously pleased with herself. Over her shoulder, Garrus saw the Asari shopkeeper glance at them worriedly. 

Never let it be said Commander Micaela Shepard didn’t know how to stop a room. 

"Also, I had a fishbowl in my apartment here on the Citadel before I...." Her eyes went a little unfocused. "...You know. A-Anyway, Cerberus thought they’d be so generous to put a giant 60-gallon tank in the captain's quarters. Might as well use it, yeah?" 

Garrus couldn't help it; he laughed. How could she make him forget, for just a moment, that they were about to die in only a few weeks? She chuckled too, and the two of them stood there, giggling like school children. When I’m alone with her, Garrus thought, really alone--off the ship, away from Alliance or Cerberus or even the turian hierarchy--

“You’re not going to tell me her name, are you?” Her face was red, and her eyes were slightly wet, but she was smiling wide.

Garrus recovered as quickly as he could. “I wonder where Mordin ran off to--”

“Garrus.”

He felt a weight on his shoulder as his commander smacked his armor playfully. Their eyes met, and for a brief moment, the Ward disappeared. And there was just her, and him, and those stupid fish in her arms. 

But then Mordin found them and the moment was gone. As Mordin and Shepard discussed the sunfish, its behavioral patterns, the pros and cons of purchasing a tank VI to regulate its temperature, Garrus hung back, considering what had just happened.

When they had jokingly stumbled their way into Shepard suggesting sex, Garrus had been rendered incoherent. He’d agreed too readily to be anything less than eager and was embarrassed he was nearly reduced to a fledgling recruit in front of his commander. It had barely even crossed his mind that maybe it would make the coming weeks awkward or tense. 

Now, they danced around each other, saying things that meant something else, and sending each other furtive glances and subtle touches that each pretended to ignore. It was distracting, to say the least. For all Garrus prided himself on his focus and drive, he felt drawn towards Shepard. She felt like the sun on Palaven, intense, unrelenting, and… warm. Moments when he missed the desert sun of his homeworld were assuaged when she was near him.

He hadn’t always felt like this. There was a time when Micaela Shepard was just another Alliance officer. Then, a Spectre. And then, surprisingly, his commander. It wasn’t until she died, came back two years later, and saved his goddamn life from a rocket to the face, did things start to change. Garrus touched the bandages taping the side of his face together. 

"Hey." Garrus looked up and found Shepard beside him once again. Mordin was busy reading something on his omni tool as the three of them stood by the transit station.

“You good, Vakarian?” She looked up at him, her dark eyebrows raised in concern. With the red lights of the Zakera Ward behind her, she looked incandescent. He smiled. 

“Yeah, Shepard, I’m good.”

And, maybe he would be.


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm sure this is going somewhere...

The next time Garrus heard someone in the mess during fourth rotation, he was going to alert EDI and let her handle it. Because the alternative was facing down a stubborn Shepard-sized inquisition.

“Cassiana.”

“No.”

“Xertras!”

“That’s typically a male name, Shepard.”

“Solana?”

Garrus choked on his nutrition bar at that and Shepard pointed at him smugly.

“Aha! I got it, didn’t I?”

“Spirits, Shepard, no, that’s my sister’s name!” 

She paused at that, and almost looked shocked if Garrus was reading human emotions right. Shepard blinked a few times and lowered her hand. Quietly, she said. “I didn’t know you had a sister.”

It wasn’t an accusation, but it felt like one. How much had the two of them been through together? How much had changed since they first met on the Citadel as a brash young C-Sec officer and an idealistic new commander? At one moment they were almost inseparable companions bonded in war and tragedy and in the next, perfect strangers. 

“It never came up,” Garrus shrugged, attempting nonchalance.

They both grew silent, the only sound between them the humming of the Normandy. It was early, technically still in the fourth crew rotation. But Garrus hadn’t been sleeping well for years and wasn’t going to start any time soon, so when he heard someone rummaging through the mess he came out of the main battery to find Shepard brewing a pot of coffee.

“You don’t have to tell me,” Shepard said softly. “I understand it’s… personal. I don’t really need to know.” She fidgeted with the coffee mug in her hands, the dark liquid sloshing over the rim and spilling on the table. “I was mostly teasing you.” She looked up at him then, her deep brown eyes framed by thick eyelashes and tired dark circles.

Garrus stared at her, trying to figure out why that made something in his gut clench. After a long moment, he opened his mouth to reply. Realizing he didn’t have anything to say, he shut it, mandibles flaring.

Garrus looked away, tried to find something to distract himself. For a few tense minutes they sat in silence. Shepard sipped her coffee. He scrolled through his omnitool.  
Casually, he cleared his throat.

“Sidoria.” 

Shepard looked up at him, eyebrow raised. 

Garrus turned off his omnitool. “Her name was Sidoria.”

Shepard nodded and pursed her lips. After a moment of hesitation, she spoke. 

“Daniel.”

At that, Garrus leaned in a little closer, intrigued. “Daniel who?”

Shepard smiled at that. “Who, indeed.”

Garrus sat back in his chair. “Didn’t even bother to catch a last name did you, Shepard? How cruel.” This was an interaction he was much more at home with, in regards to Shepard. The banter came easily for them, easy as drawing breath. But the emotional vulnerability, the uncertainty of how much and how real this” stress relief” was… That existed in the grey spaces between easy and very complicated. 

And while Garrus was confident, beyond a shadow of a doubt, that if he were to be intimate with anyone in this galaxy before they all died in the relay, it would be the short, intense woman sitting across from him in the mess hall, he couldn’t help but feel nervous. 

“I’ll show you mine if you show me yours.” Micaela Shepard had on the same smirk she did when she waltzed into the main battery a week ago. She crossed her arms and mimicked his posture.

“Nice try, but you’ve already got more out of this than I have. You know my extenuating circumstances, but let’s make this a fair fight,” Garrus offered.

Shepard laughed lightly. “Garrus, surely you know I don’t fight fair.”

They stared each other down, Shepard fighting desperately to keep a straight face. 

“Bullshit.”

She held his gaze for a moment longer, then relented. “Fine,” she agreed, getting up to refill her mug. “In the interest of fairness, what do you want to know?”

Garrus was confused. “You want me to ask?” He hadn’t anticipated having to inquire directly about whoever this Daniel was--or is--to Shepard. It suddenly occurred to him that maybe he didn’t want to know.

Shepard sat back down, a fresh cup of coffee in her hands. “Shoot.”

Garrus figured they’d better start at the beginning. “Sure, then… How did you meet?”

Shepard took a long drink of her coffee, then began to speak. 

“Huerta Memorial, here on the Citadel. He was a doctor.”

“Aiming high, I see,” Garrus joked, but it came out strained.

“He was… my doctor. After Akuze.” She looked him in the eyes when she said this. Garrus realized she was trying to gauge his reaction. He knew she saw the flash of shock that rushed through him. She nodded, looking down at the table between them. “Yeah, not my brightest idea.”

“So what happened, then?” Garrus asked.

Shepard shrugged. “My treatment ended. I was discharged, and he asked me not to go back into the field. It was him, or the Alliance.”

“And you chose the Alliance.”

“I chose to find someone who wouldn’t make me choose,” Shepard corrected patiently.

Garrus just nodded and gave an eloquent, “Hmmn.”

“So, shifting the spotlight from me to you, Sidoria?”

“We really have to do this again?” Garrus groaned. 

Shepard sighed, all at once looking very tired and small. “Garrus, isn’t this what people do, talk about their pasts, their embarrassing youths? Isn’t that what you do on…” She trailed off. 

He looked at her wryly. “A first date?”  
Now it was her turn to go silent, sputtering like the Mako when she’d overheat the guns. After an amusing several seconds, he figured he’d let her off the hook this once. 

“We never saw each other again. She was transferred after the mission. She’s probably married now.”

“With kids,” Shepard agreed. “Can you imagine?”

Garrus chuckled. “No, never.”


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Quarantine is as good a time as ever to finally get back to writing this! Hope everyone is staying safe and healthy. xx

The problem, Garrus realized, was not that maybe-maybe-not dating your commander resulted in odd power dynamics or a stilted sense of coordination. All the banter, furtive looks, and in battle--all these things came as easy as drawing breath when Garrus was with Shepard. It seemed they had been doing this odd back-and-forth forever. It was effortless. 

None of that was a problem. 

The problem came when maybe-maybe-not dating your commander meant that you had to keep your insubordinate mouth shut when she addressed the crew during mission briefings. Even if that mission involved serving herself up on a silver platter. 

When Shepard briefed the comm room on their mission, Samara at her side, Garrus felt his throat tighten. In this room, above all others on the ship, Shepard was in charge. 

"The task is simple," she explained in a calm, authoritative voice. "I'll be in Afterlife, around 2200 sol hours. Once I get Morinth's attention I'll be invited back to her apartment, where Samara will arrive and capture her daughter. Once she's apprehended, Samara, you may do with her as you see fit. I've been briefed on what to expect from this Ardat-Yakshi, so this should be a cut-and-dry mission."

By her side, Samara nodded solemnly. 

As the meeting adjourned, everyone made their way to their posts. Garrus was inclined to hang back, but Miranda beat him to it. 

"Shepard," she began. "This is reckless, even for you. Have someone else go instead, you're too valuable to--"

"To Cerberus?" Shepard moved to leave, but Miranda blocked the doors.

Garrus, who was still lingering in the back of the comm room, tried very hard to look invested in something on his omnitool. He briefly considered activating his tactical cloak.

"Shepard."

Shepard stared at Miranda, who, to her credit, met her commander with a wary look. 

"Shepard, we're wasting time. Every day more humans are being abducted from colonies--"

"Miranda, you don't have to repeat the script you've been fed, I know the implications of staying in Omega an extra night, small as they may actually be. But unless every member of our team on the dossiers your boss gave me trusts me with their life, this whole operation is useless." 

Miranda was silent as the two stared each other down. After a moment, Shepard sighed and put a hand on Miranda's shoulder. 

"Thank you for worrying about me. I want you to know, Samara isn't special. I'd do the same for you, Tali, Garrus, anyone on this ship. If this is what it takes to make it through the relay, then it's worth it."

Miranda nodded curtly and left the comm room.

The dull hum of the Normandy seemed almost hollow, as the commander slumped against the console. She looked so small. 

Garrus coughed and stood up. Shepard straightened immediately and turned to look at him. "Garrus? Shit, guess I forgot you were back there--uh, did you need something?"

He was planning on expressing the same reservations Miranda had, but she'd had enough of that. So, he lied. "Just wanted to run some analytics by you when you do rounds." 

Shepard nodded, clearly distracted.

"Well, I should, ah, get back to the Thanix. Still more tests to run. I'll be going."

"Hey, Garrus?" He felt a tug on his armor and looked down as Shepard gripped his forearm. He looked at her small, fleshy hand, inches from his large, leathery talons, and then back up at her. She looked like she was trying to find something to say, but he couldn't be sure.

"Commander?"

She seemed to snap out of it and quickly pulled her hand away. "As you were, Vakarian. I'll see you on my rounds."

Garrus nodded and left.

As he worked into the night, he couldn't help but think of his commander's hands, so tiny and breakable, next to his sharp, chitinous talons. He'd never really thought about how this would work out between them further than if the mechanics lined up. A simple caress could draw blood, a playful nibble could puncture her neck... Was this even safe? 

Would she even want to put that kind of effort into blowing off steam? Surely she could find that with any of the other teammates she'd recruited, particularly the humans. With Jacob following her every move in the mess hall and how long she’d spend in Jack's quarters, wasn’t one of them better suited to this than him?

She'd never ask for anything from the team, he knew that, and he'd been shocked and honored when she'd asked this of him. But Shepard wasn’t one to think to back down from a challenge, even at risk to herself. 

He'd ask her, next time she visited on her rounds. He'd give her an out if she wanted one. Even if he didn't like the answer, he could at least give her that.

\--

But Shepard didn’t do her rounds the day after the mission, or the next. It had been several shift cycles since he’d last seen her, and Garrus wasn’t the only one concerned. 

“Do you think she’s eaten?” Tali asked him over their poorly flavored dextro meal. “Sometimes she forgets to eat--remember that one time, during the chase for Saren, I think she existed solely off stim bars. Ashley had to force her to eat a real meal after Virmire.” They were sitting in the mess, Garrus with his back to the elevator so Tali could crane her neck to check whenever she heard the doors open. 

Garrus nodded, staring at the grey goop Sergeant Gardner served them. “I don’t know if anything Gardner serves can be considered a real meal.”

Distantly, the elevator doors  _ swooshed _ open.

“O-oh! Is that--no, damn, it’s Gabby… Ah! Samara!”

Garrus turned around and saw the asari justicar stride over to their small table. She paused and looked to be considering joining them. Tali leaned forward, resting her helmet in her hands. 

“Samara, have you by chance seen Shepard lately? She hasn’t done her rounds in a few cycles, just sending out briefings and requesting reports.”

Samara tilted her head. “Is it mandatory that Shepard conducts her role in person?”

Tali looked down at her lap and fidgeted with her suit. “No, it’s just that… It’s odd… Shepard… It’s just what Shepard does.”

“She’s just that kind of commander,” Garrus agreed. 

“A good commander,” Samara nodded. After a moment, Garrus found himself asking how their encounter with Morinth went.

Samara looked at him, and the air of disinterest always clouding her broke for a moment as she gave him a small smile. “I have not known many to survive an encounter with an Ardat-Yakshi. Perhaps Shepard is not as immortal as we may believe?”

Garrus froze. Samara continued.

“But, Shepard is as strong as I had hoped. She did very well.” 

Garrus stood, and headed toward the elevator. He vaguely recognized Tali shouting after him, but he was pressing the button to the Captain’s Cabin before he could even think about what he was doing. 

He wasn’t there for her, last time. And maybe he won’t be there for her next time. But he could be here for her now because he just got her back. He just got his best friend back, and he was not going to make the same mistake again.


	4. Chapter 4

A message pinged from Garrus’ omnitool late in the office. It was only a few weeks after the battle with Saren and apparently crime hadn’t slowed enough to give law enforcement a break in spite of it. He was back at C-Sec, and while he tried desperately to convince himself he felt a renewed sense of vigor out of the job, the long nights of paperwork tilted the scales heavily in favor of becoming a dispenser of justice outside the bureaucratic lines.

Deciding a break from the piles of datapads strewn across his desk was needed, he looked down at the omnitool, his tired eyes going bright at the notification that had popped up.

_ Incoming Message from Shepard, Commander _

He immediately swiped to open it and was greeted with a familiar voice. 

“Hey, Vakarian. This is Shepard.” She sounded more on edge than usual. His mandibles flared. Was something the matter with the council again? More reaper sightings? His heart rate picked up a little. 

“I’m staying on the Citadel for a day or two, getting some of those shore leave hours clocked in, ship maintenance, you know...” she trailed off. His heart rate slowed a bit as she paused for a moment. When she spoke again, it was the relaxed but authoritative voice of the commander he knew best. “And I’m taking a bit of a day trip off-station. Wondered if you wanted to skip out on work and cause some trouble. Let me know if you’re around tomorrow. Shepard out.”

Garrus sat back into his chair and frowned, ruminating over what the commander could possibly mean. He wasn’t sure about the Alliance Navy, but he was pretty confident requests to go off-station during shore leave were typically denied. So where would she go?

He typed his response back, curiosity piquing. _ Time and place. I’ll be there. _

After arranging to meet in Docking Bay 24 the next day, Garrus resumed his work with even less attention than he had before. His supervisor tilted her head knowingly as she analyzed Garrus’ reports.

“You got a date or something?” she asked, smirking to herself. 

He sputtered, shocked. “Excuse me?”

“These reports seem a little more rushed than usual. I saw your request for absence tomorrow.”

“That--”

“Your request was granted, Vakarian, relax. Just fix up case N-1701-CC, and file it before you leave tonight. And have a good time tomorrow, those bags under your eyes look painfully heavy.”

That night, Garrus received a call from Shepard.

“Commander?”

“Ah, hey Garrus.” She seemed distracted, still. “And I’m not your commander anymore, you know.”

“Mmm,” he hummed noncommittally at that. “Everything alright?”

Over the vidcom, his former commander sighed. “Shore leave’s been canceled. Hackett sent a request through about geth activity in the Omega Nebula. Our daycation is officially on hold.”

"Shepard, when's the last time you actually had a real shore leave?"

She ignored him, pushing forward. "I don't know when we'll be back, but let's do something. Maybe we can even drag Wrex along, really cause some ruckus. I'll let you know when I'm back on the station."

"I'll see if I can fit you into my busy schedule," Garrus smiled. "I'm exceedingly popular."

“I’m sure stopping Sovereign gave you plenty of street cred at the bars,” she teased.

“It’s almost smothering, how desirable I am now,” Garrus played along. 

The two were silent for a moment, and then, “Speaking of bars, I should go. I need to round up the troops before they get too many drinks in. Later, Garrus.”

“Vakarian, out.”

That was the last time he spoke to Shepard, before--

“_ The Alliance Navy reports an unprovoked attack on an Alliance ship…” _

The report played on the vidscreen at C-Sec. Garrus gave it a brief consideration, and then buried his nose back in his work. He’d spent his day off at the station, catching up on case files left abandoned when he ran away with Shepard, and he had a lot of ground to recover. He didn’t have time to gather around the watercooler with the other officers right now. He had a promising lead on a smuggling ring to take care of.

“..._ Taking place in the Omega Nebula over the planet of Alchera... Many speculations about the nature of the attack are being reviewed, as the Navy was following up reports of geth activity…” _

Someone had turned the volume up on the vid, forcing Garrus to look up. 

_ “The following casualties as of this moment are as follows…” _

Names, over twenty names of men and women he had served with on the _ SSV Normandy _were called. 

Garrus closed his eyes, exhaling. _ Spirits, be with them _, he thought. He moved to turn back to the datapad in his hands when the reporter continued.

“_ Commander Micaela Shepard was lost to space by the final explosion of the SSV Normandy in assisting the pilot, one Jeff Moreau, into an evacuation pod. A vigil will be held for those lost at the parliamentary building of the Systems Alliance on Arcturus Station…” _

The floor dropped out from beneath him. He didn’t remember having stood up, but he couldn’t feel anything. He didn’t even consider Shepard. She was a universal constant, he’d found, under her command. 

Commander Shepard was…_ immortal. _She faced every challenge, every confrontation, each roadblock with a sly smirk and a biotic punch to the face. She was unstoppable, and she… 

She was dead. 

\--

Not this time, he thought. The doors opened to the exterior of Shepard’s quarters. The blue AI, EDI, announced his presence. After a brief moment, the doors slid open. 

“Garrus?”

He saw her, alive, standing in the doorway. She was here, she was alive. 

He sighed, leaning against the wall. 

“Hey, big guy, you okay?”

Garrus looked down at her. Her hair and skin were wet, and she wasn’t wearing her uniform. This was odd, this version of her. And yet, he felt comforted at the sight of it. _ Not immortal _. 

“Should I call Chakwas?” he blurted out.

“Call Chakwas? What? Why?” Before he could answer, she stepped back. “Here, come on in. Take a seat.”

He followed her, and the doors slid shut. He’d never been in the captain’s quarters before. The entire left wall was a ridiculously large fish tank, and most of the ceiling had a view of space. 

The news broadcast played back in his mind as he stared up at it. “..._ Commander Micaela Shepard was lost to space by the final explosion…” _ She was spaced, and Cerberus built her bedroom under an observation window?

Shepard saw him looking up and chuckled as she sat on one of the couches. “Yeah. They really put an observation window right over the bed. I mean, hey, at least it wasn’t a mirror, right?”

He turned back to her. “Shepard…”

“I mean, seriously, I own one goldfish in my apartment on the Citadel, and they decide now I’m a fish enthusiast. So what am I supposed to do with this 500-gallon tank?”

Garrus just stared at her, unsure of what to say. 

“Sorry, Garrus, you came here for something. What’s up?”

Was she being intentionally dense? Most of the crew hadn’t seen her in days. A prick of frustration flared his mandibles, and he sat down across from her.

“Shepard, I’m not good with this. I know I’m stepping out of line. What happened with Morinth?”

Her eyes grew wide, and her shoulders slumped. “Oh,” she mumbled, looking away. She started picking at the material of the couch. “Nothing… happened. Samara apprehended her as we planned. Morinth was killed. She isn’t going to harm anyone anymore. I just…” She trailed off and sighed. She bent over, head in her hands, arms on her legs. It looked to Garrus as if she was trying to keep the thoughts in her head from spilling out.

“I’m… _ fine, _” she said through gritted teeth. She looked like a bomb ready to detonate at any moment. 

Garrus stood up and grabbed her hand. “Let’s spar.”

She looked up, shocked. “Wh-what?”

“Let’s spar. Come on, on your feet.” He began taking off his armor. 

“Whoa, Vakarian, I really meant what I said, and I’m really not able to--”

“Easy, commander, just regular sparring for now.” He flashed what he felt was a confident grin back at her. He was in his undersuit and set the armor aside, then shoved the couch against the fish tank. Shepard stood there, dumbfounded. 

“Alright commander,” Garrus turned to her. “Let’s see what we--”

A foot came flying at his face, and Garrus barely ducked in time. He looked up, and saw an enraged Shepard, breathing heavily. Shepard threw herself into the sparring match, and they both got a few good hits in. As they sparred, Garrus felt his mind clear. All he could focus on was dodging Shepard’s attacks, ducking and weaving like the two were in a synchronized dance. But this time, it felt like they both knew the moves. 

He wasn’t sure how long they sparred, but Shepard began hitting harder, more often. One punch almost felt like she had activated her biotics, and he was brought back to reality in an instant. He blocked her next hit and held her fist in his. It glowed the faint blue-purple of raw dark energy. Garrus looked into her eyes. 

She was crying.

“While we were… in her apartment… I felt like I couldn’t say no to her. Like I… I didn’t _ want _ to say no… I was stalling for Samara, but I couldn’t remember for how long, or even _ why _ . Everything was just… _ her. _” Shepard’s voice broke on the last word, and she hung her head. “I… wanted her to take me. I… I don’t know why.”

Garrus looked down at the strong, powerful woman before him. She burdened herself with so much, took on every enemy and faced each mountain with a determined smile. But what happened when it grew too heavy, who was there to help her bear the load? Not the Alliance, with Sovereign. Not Cerberus, when this was over, he was sure.

Garrus brought her to him and Shepard wrapped her arms around him, holding tight as she cried. He didn’t know if he could do anything to help her, beyond blowing off steam. But he wanted to. He wanted to be the one by her side when the load was too much. He wanted to give her an escape to somewhere else. He wanted… to protect her.

“Did you come up here to spar?” Shepard asked into his carapace. 

He realized all at once he wasn’t wearing the large armor that naturally distanced them physically, and he had to fight not to shiver when she brushed her hands against his torso. He was positive she was unaware of the implications of the touch, but it sent his rational brain sputtering to a halt.

“Ah.. no, Tali was worried… about you.” Garrus was having a difficult time forming words, because now her breath, heavy and labored after crying, was hot on his neck.

“Just Tali?” she asked, stepping back to look up at him. Her hands trailed along his ribs and it took all of Garrus’ self-control not to growl.

“I think Joker said something too.”

“Mmn, so, no one else, then?”

“Jack did wander up to the mess on her own yesterday. I think she was looking for you.”

Her face softened at that. “Oh, I’ll need to make it up to her. I just… I couldn’t see people, yet.” She stepped away from him and began tidying the room as Garrus put his armor back on.

“Thank you, Garrus…” She was turning over a pillow in her hands. “For checking on me, giving me an outlet. Just… thank you.”

He turned to her, fully armored, and his knees nearly gave out. Her sun-bright smile was directed at him, and he found himself missing her warmth from just a few moments ago. He’d thought her beautiful, in the heat of battle, shotgun in one hand and biotics firing out another, sweat on her brow and fire in her eyes. But she was beautiful here, too, in her quarters, surrounded by too many fish and perhaps an embarrassingly extensive model ship collection, smiling like he just gave her a moon.

_ Not immortal _.

Garrus considered his next words carefully. “Shepard? What’s your last deed, your last piece of unfinished business before we all throw ourselves into this relay?”

She dropped the pillow onto the sofa and looked up at the observation window above her bed, pausing before she answered.

“Mmm. Easy. I’d visit Mindoir.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> a little longer one this time, hope you all enjoyed it.


	5. Chapter 5

It didn’t happen often, but when Shepard spoke of Mindoir, she did so with a deadpan detachment uncharacteristic of her usual compassion and empathy. Garrus remembered a time during the hunt for Saren when the _ Normandy _ had stopped at the Citadel to obtain new requisitions. A young girl who had survived Mindoir, like Shepard, had been found in a critical mental state by C-SEC.

He hadn’t been on the ground team that time, instead hanging back to fix the Mako’s fried engine thrusters they had burned out when Wrex dared their commander to drive over a Geth Colossus on Feros a week earlier.

As he had begun recalibrating the drive train, the thudding of the freight elevator announced the entrance of two Alliance officers to the docking bay. He’d dismissively recognized Ashley Williams and Kaidan Alenko as they spoke in lowered voices by the elevator as he continued his work.

“...Never seen the commander like that before,” he heard distantly.

“Best not to speculate about it, Kaidan. It’s none of our business.” Garrus peaked out from under the Mako to see the strong-featured human striding confidently towards the weapons bench as Kaidan trailed behind. He opened his mouth to signal his presence, but the words died in his throat as Kaidan spoke.

“She was _ scared_. Something about that Mindoir girl freaked her out.”

A sniper rifle slammed onto the work bench. Ashley’s voice was unmistakably annoyed. “It doesn’t matter. She was doing her job, Alenko. Like I’m _ trying _to do mine.” 

“Don’t you think it’s odd? That during our first run back the Citadel the commander meets a ghost from her past? Someone could have planted her to get to the commander. Someone with resources. All I’m saying—“

Ashley cut him off. “Officer personnel files are only accessible to high-ranking officials within the Alliance, Kaidan. I hope you’re not suggesting—”

“I’m not talking about the Alliance, I’m talking about the _Co__uncil!” _Kaidan’s voice got stronger, and it surprised Garrus. He’d been on the ship a few weeks now and not once heard the Lieutenant raise his voice.

The docking bay was eerily silent. Neither Wrex nor the requisitions officers were down here, and Garrus realized the two officers probably didn’t notice him under the Mako. He ducked back under the engine; he had work to do. 

A tired sigh was heard across the docking bay. “Shepard’s history with Mindoir isn’t a secret, especially after her stunt on Akuze,” Ashley hissed.

Kaidan spoke again, lower. “The commander trusts you, Ash. She trusts us both. She’ll listen to us if we make our case on this.”

“There’s no case, Kaidan!” Ashley groaned. “I’m not going to tell the commander someone is trying to manipulate her with a scared little girl from Mindoir without actual evidence. You can put your career on the line for her, but not mine.”

Kaidan had stormed off after that. Ashley grabbed her sniper and began cleaning it a little more forcefully than Garrus would have liked. He had been coveting her Harpoon VII, and wasn’t shy about it. After a brief moment, Garrus decided to bite the proverbial bullet.

He coughed. 

The gunnery chief looked up from her corner of the docking bay, scope in hand, as Garrus pulled himself out from under the Mako.

“Williams,” he nodded to her, as cooly as he could manage.

She just nodded stiffly back to him, and began polishing the barrel of the rifle.

“You and Alenko fighting for teacher’s pet?” he quipped as he focused on his omnitool.

She made some sort of strange human sound at that, and it reminded Garrus of a Krogan’s barking laugh. But she shook her head. “I don’t have to compete for that, Vakarian.”

He didn’t know how to ask about what her and Kaidan’s conversation meant, so he dropped it. If there was anyone in the galaxy with the resources to pull what Kaidan was suggesting, he wouldn’t put it past the Council to try and deter the first human Spectre from continuing her assignment. 

No reprimand for Kaidan was issued, nor was there any action taken to further investigate Kaidan’s theory so Garrus assumed it hadn’t gotten to Shepard. Aside from the fact that Ashley’s guns were impeccably shiny on the next ground mission, Garrus hadn’t heard anything about Mindoir since.

“Mmm. Easy. I’d visit Mindoir.” 

Garrus was brought back to himself, stunned by her honest response. He’d expected her to shrug his question off, give him a wink and ask about a new bar opening on the Silversun Strip.

But Shepard looked back at him and he was struck with the vulnerability he saw there. The usual fire behind her eyes was instead that of a small, flickering candle.

“What’s on Mindoir?” he asked, quietly. Their eyes were locked. 

Shepard’s voice came out in a rasp. “A willow tree. It was huge, and it’s leaves made this curtain around it, so it felt like entering another world as you hid under its shade. My parents brought it with them from earth as a seedling when they first became homesteaders there on the Mindoir colony.”

He nodded. Though Shepard had helped him with Sidonis, there were still so many things he wanted resolved before they went into the relay. He felt he should say something, but nothing felt right. This tentative moment felt so delicate he was afraid to breathe too hard, move too quickly, lest it extinguish the delicate flame. 

Shepard sat on her bed, facing Garrus. She smiled at him, and Garrus was relieved to see his silence didn’t bother her. His mandibles flared back at her, and his subharmonics let out an involuntary hum. His neck grew hot at the knowledge that he let out a _ purr _ in front of his commanding officer. 

He cleared his throat awkwardly when she looked up at him in surprise.

“Garrus…” Shepard whispered softly. “Was that—”

It was time to leave before he really did something stupid. “Ah, well I better get going.” Garrus stood from the couch, scratching the back of his neck plates with a talon. “I’m glad you’re okay, Shepard. Ship’s rounds aren’t as rewarding when they’re remote.”

His commander laughed, and stood up from the bed as she followed him to the elevator. “Glad to know I was so dearly missed.”

As he made his way into the elevator, he turned back to her. “We’re going to go, Shepard. When we survive this suicide mission, we’ll go to Mindoir. I promise.”

“The bars on Mindoir are shit, Garrus. You’d hate it."

“I’ll find something else to do,” he vowed, looking into her chocolate eyes. They were so warm, and it was hard to pull away.

“See you on Alpha shift,” she whispered. 

The elevator doors closed on Shepard's flushed face.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This one is short, I’m so sorry! Will I ever stop these flashbacks????? Tune in next week to find out...........


	6. Chapter 6

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Garrus takes a recommendation from Joker on how to approach his rendezvous with the commander... and makes some revelations of his own.

It seemed like things were about to get a lot more complicated.

The bold line he stumbled through about “research” when Shepard first broached their potential intimacy was coming back to haunt him. At the time, it seemed like this whole operation was just beginning. But lately, as their missions brought them to the colonies ravaged by Reapers, pirates, mercs, and crazed captains, the entire ship was on high alert as tensions began to mount. There was building electricity in the air as each day brought them closer to storming the Omega-4 Relay. New squad members filtered in, each dossier earning a green checkmark by Cerberus, and regular stops to the Citadel made Garrus feel like they had weeks more than they did.

Plenty of time to figure out how to make their turian-human alliance work. Or rather, work _ well _.

And where he might fit into that.

In the past, all his relationships were direct, simple, and aggressively enthusiastic. He’d never thought of himself as a man with much patience, especially given his actions the last two years, but his desire to wait until just the _right _moment with Shepard meant there was definitely more than stress relief brewing under the surface of his plates.

The urge to protect her, to carry some of the weight on her shoulders long enough for her to come up for air… He’d felt inklings of those inclinations before, but always under the attitude of a friend. Of war companion. Of a leader.

Which brought him to the flight deck of the _ Normandy_, specifically its pilot. Asking Joker for help was his first mistake, he realized, as the doors to the flight deck closed behind him. Once the locking mechanism triggered, Joker smiled, swiveling around in his chair. From what Garrus could tell, it was genuine. Probably.

“I’m honored you’ve come to me. It means a lot that you’d trust me--and the AI who’s totally datamining the minutiae of our lives--about this,” Joker began.

“You seemed the most…” Garrus racked his brain for a polite way to say “licentious”, and came up short. He sighed, and rubbed the back of his neck, getting straight to the point. “I need this to work,” he finished lamely.

Joker nodded seriously, stroking his beard. _ A human tick_, Garrus noted. After a moment of consideration, the man slapped the arm of the chair he sat in triumphantly. “Alcohol. That should do the trick for you. Quick and easy.”

Garrus balked. “I meant along the lines of--”

“And I’ll send you some key video demonstrations. That should get you off to the races.”

Garrus didn’t know how to ask “_Do I compliment her ankles? Her clothing? How will I know if she likes something? How do humans do this?” _ Instead, he stood in the flight deck with the _ Normandy’s _bizarre pilot, contemplating the questions that had been haunting him for weeks now.

Joker was still talking as Garrus made these considerations. "Music is good too. Helps with… tempo._ You _ know," he chuckled to himself.

_ What if _ …his mind wandered. _ What if you can’t find a human attractive? _ a tiny voice whispered in the back of his mind, feeding off the inhibitions he didn’t realize he had. _ What if you can’t make this work? _His eyes slid closed at the thought, ashamed at his selfishness. 

“See, Garrus,” Joker began again after a pregnant silence. He looked down at the human before him. “I’ll let you in on a little something special. The first thing you need to know about humans--especially women--is they have more orifices than you’d think--”

Garrus managed to override the lock on the doors before Joker had a chance to continue. Stumbling into the CIC, Joker’s laugh echoed behind him. 

Cursing, he moved away from the flight deck to retreat back to the Main Battery. The descent down to the Crew Deck gave him an opportunity to steady his breathing and clear his mind. By the time the doors opened, he knew losing himself in calibrating the Thanix was just what he needed to get his head on straight. 

Hours passed, and Garrus realized that perhaps there _ was _ a limit to how many trajectory algorithms he could optimize. The upgrade Shepard had purchased, installed, and optimized--he was hard-pressed to find any other weak points in the system. 

He had to hand it to Cerberus--they could build a damn good artillery system.

As Garrus triple checked the equations, his omnitool _ pinged _ softly. He looked down and saw an encrypted message from Joker. 

Feeling very much like a fledgling with his first extranet device, Garrus couldn’t help but look around the Main Battery, reassuring himself he was alone. After deciphering the message, Garrus found an entire folder of vids dedicated to the subject matter they had discussed earlier that afternoon.

He clicked on the first one in the folder, unsure of what to expect. 

A dramatic amount of loud moaning filled the Battery, as a human female appeared nude onscreen. Garrus quickly fumbled with the volume control, muting the video.

From the console, a light beeped as the ship’s internal AI spoke. “Garrus Vakarian, it has been noted that your heart rate has elevated over the healthy amount for a turian of your age and fitness. Shall I request aid from Medical Specialist Dr. Chakwas?”

“No, _ no, _ EDI. That’s not necessary,” he growled. Joker’s snide remark about “ _ the AI who’s totally datamining the minutiae of our lives _” suddenly seemed less paranoid than he originally thought.

“Very well,” the AI replied, and the small light on his console dulled. 

After a moment, Garrus clicked on another video, keeping the volume off (just in case). Again, a human female appeared onscreen, this time clothed. Behind her was a significantly larger human man, who groped her over her clothes. 

As Garrus watched, he tried to understand how their anatomy fit together. Luckily, it was essentially the same for both humans and turian. However, upon skimming through the rest of the folder, almost all of the vids seemed to expressly focus on the male’s climax, and not their partners’. 

How was he supposed to learn to pleasure her when the men in these vids focused solely on themselves? Turian anatomy ensured that both their sexes climaxed during intercourse, and Garrus realized he hadn’t considered that humans wouldn’t have a similar design. He’d have to figure that out…

Garrus re-encrypted the folder and closed his omni tool. 

Frustrated, he rubbed the back of his neck, considering what he’d seen. The women he saw on the vids were all shapes and sizes, buit Garrus grew concerned that he didn’t find any of them appealing. As he watched their escapades with their partners, nothing seemed to catch his interest. That tiny voice from earlier tugs at his inhibitions.

What if he didn’t find his best friend attractive, either? What if… his plates didn’t open for her, his cock sliding into her soft hands… Garrus shivered, a low growl escaping him. 

He’d buy alcohol for them both, pick some music he’d seen humans dancing to in Afterlife, and have a game plan ready.

The rest would fall into place. 

And maybe they would, too.

Later that evening, as he stepped into the mess, he recognized a pair of voices as belonging to their master thief and the commander behind the elevator. 

“Can’t I just change in the skycar?”

“Shep, the ride is shorter than you think. And I need to brief you on your alias. It will be simpler this way.” 

“This is inter-office harassment,” Garrus heard Shepard mutter.

“You’re just mad about the dress. Stop _ fidgeting _.”

Remembering Shepard’s brief on Kasumi’s espionage mission, Garrus relaxed. “Everything okay over here?” he asked, announcing his presence as he turned the corner

“Ah, hello Garrus.” The thief didn't turn as she addressed him but continued as if he had already been apart of their conversation. “Doesn’t the commander look nice?”

“Kasumi--” Shepard warned, closing her eyes. 

Garrus looked at his commander--_ really looked _\--and felt his mouth run as dry as Palaven’s hottest desert. He leaned against the wall beside them for support. 

The commander looked anything _ but _nice. Her strange human fringe was pulled into a tight knot above her head, highlighting her strong facial features. Shepard’s armor had been traded for a shiny black dress that accentuated the thickness of her thighs and the flare of her hips. A deep neckline plunged into her cleavage, drawing his gaze further down to her toned waist. He raked his eyes over her frame, taller now in the strange shoes she wore. 

“Yeah, I’d say so,” he agreed, mandibles flaring in a smirk. 

Shepard’s eyes shot up, and perhaps Garrus was only imagining things, but he could have sworn he saw a flash of red beneath some of Shepard’s facial scarring. He chuckled at her reaction, and a flutter of affection bloomed in his chest. 

“You planning to kill someone looking like that?” he continued, growing bolder. The thought of this small woman dressed like this, slamming an enemy down with her biotics, holding them prone with her sharp shoes, leg exposed, as she leveled a gun to their chest, making her demands… He shivered. 

“Not if I can help it,” Shepard bit out, pulling him back from the narrative he had constructed.

“Ah, shame,” Garrus sighed._ What a way to go out. _ “I’m sure the _ Blasto _ movies are looking for just that kind of villain.”

Kasumi snickered as their commander floundered for a response. “Garrus... I. F… _ Fuck you _ ,” she finished, but there was no heat behind it. His grin grew wider. _ Cute _. He loved it when he could render her speechless, rare as it was. 

“Commander,” a voice came from somewhere behind the group. 

“Oh, good. I was tired of being the third wheel,” Kasumi teased as a virtual sphere of light appeared before Shepard. 

“The _ Normandy _is approaching Bekenstien from the Eagle Nebula. Jeff Moreau wishes to inform you to head to the docking bay for skycar deployment.”

“Thanks, EDI,” Shepard nodded briskly. “We’re on our way.”

“Very good,” the strange AI agreed and blinked out of sight.

Kasumi stepped back from the commander and clapped her hands, seemingly pleased with her work. “Well, I’ve done what I can. Let’s go. Later, Garrus.” A small smirk played at the edges of her mouth, and he could tell that beneath her shadowy hood, she had winked at him. 

When the doors to the elevator opened, Kasumi and Shepard stepped away, heading toward their next mission. Garrus couldn’t help but turn to admire Shepard from behind as she passed him, her hips swinging broadly. 

_ Spirits, was she doing that on _ purpose? he wondered. Maybe it wasn’t turian, but it was _ definitely _ sexier than he’d ever imagined he would find a human. Had he not been watching her so intently, he might’ve missed her peeking over her shoulder as she stepped into the lift. Gauging his reaction, perhaps? He caught her eye and saw her smirk. _Definitely on purpose._

Another involuntary _ hum _ reverberated from somewhere deep within him as he flashed her what he hoped was a roguish smile. Her own smile widened in response. 

At that moment, nothing about who they were or how they came here mattered. He didn’t care. The quick, easy relationships in his past had burned themselves out as quickly as they started. This one he wanted to last. He wanted to take her to her home planet, give her a vacation, hear her stories, share the weight, and offer her his own in return.

_I'm in love with her, _he realized.

Things were about to get a _ lot _more complicated.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> we are getting there, friends. i promise...


End file.
